by Griff Hosker
We stood looking east and I said, “Do not be too certain about that. Aiden and I managed to get inside Din Guardi. We were able to slay men who were protected too. Do not tempt the Norns Ragnar! Remember your father and your brother. They thought themselves safe.”
We feasted that night but there was little joy. Everyone was in a high state of nervousness. After the feast, during which I drank little, I walked around the chambers. Poor Sámr and Ulla War Cry had Ylva, Úlfarr, Siggi Folkisson and Fótr the Fearless in there with them. They looked worried. “Great Grandfather, are we in danger?”
“We are all in danger but you have many protectors here. You will be safe.”
I was so worried that I took a chair and slept outside their door. The next morning when Ragnar discovered me there he berated me. “You dishonour Ylva and my men. Are they not enough to protect my sons? Are the men on the walls so lacking in skill that they will allow killers to enter! It reflects badly on me that the honoured jarl of our clan sleeps on a chair. You cannot protect us forever, grandfather. Let us share the burden.”
I felt foolish and I apologized. It did not come easily to me. I regretted sleeping in the chair; I was stiff all day. Brigid added her condemnation too. Only Atticus and Astrid showed me any sympathy. Astrid was touched, “That you show such love for my children means much to me, jarl. My father is long dead but you have been as a father to me. You need not lose sleep again but I thank you that you did.” She kissed me on the cheek.
Atticus said, when we were alone, “I shall never have what you have, jarl. I will never have the love of a family. I will never understand what it is to sacrifice yourself for someone of your blood.”
“Do not say that, Atticus. You are young enough to father children.”
He looked at me with such a baleful and sad stare that I swear I could see into his spirit, “Young enough, jarl but Aethelbald had me gelded to stop me from running. I can never have children.”
It was then that I realised how lucky I was. I had had two wives and fathered five children. I still had four grandchildren and three great grandchildren. The gods had been kind to me. If I died that night I could not have had a better life. I now understood why Atticus wished to teach. The children would be his children. He could pass on his knowledge. He had been sent to us for a reason. He would help us but we would help him. The Norns threads!
Two days later the Danes had still to make an appearance. The scouts had found no trace of strangers in our land and I wondered if Aðils and Beorn had reached the Saxon before he had hired any. I did not relax but I began to eat again and to drink. Brigid noticed the change. “About time too! You are an old fool as though you could do anything on your own!”
My wife believed the age of my beard. In my heart I was still a young warrior. I was not yet ready to do nothing when danger threatened. I began to relax a little. We had had warning of the attack. Atticus’ arrival and my daughter had ensured that. We had put in place enough measures to keep us safe. I worried that Cyninges-tūn might be where they would attack. If they killed me then it would please Aethelwulf and the Danes would be rewarded with the sword touched by the gods. That was a prize worth taking. Had I put my people in danger by coming south? It did not do to try to fathom the plans and plots of gods and Norns.
I ate more that night and drank more than I had for some days. When I went to bed, after ensuring that Úlfarr, Ylva and the guards were on watch, I fell asleep directly. I dreamed. My dream was so vivid that it seemed to be real life and happening before my eyes. The dream was almost identical to the other dream; the dream that had worried me. This dream was even more vivid.
I was descending down a long tunnel. It reminded me of the Norns’ cave. I saw a light at the end. It looked appealing. It seemed to be a warm place which awaited me. The tunnel was dark and damp. As I neared the end I saw Ylva. She was sitting on the back of a dragon. In her hand, she held a silver sword. She blocked the exit.
Suddenly the light disappeared and I was falling into darkness. I heard Ylva’s voice. It screamed to me to come to her aid. Then there was a light so bright that I had to shade my eyes. I crawled on all fours like a dog. I found a pool and staring into it I saw that I had become a wolf. I was Úlfarr! I padded through the shallow pool and saw figures hiding behind a wall. They were warriors. Glinting in their hands they had swords and daggers and their faces were filled with hate. I followed them as they clambered over the wall. I recognised that we were at Ragnar’s hall. The warriors rushed up to it and slew the two guards there. I scrambled over the wall. It was not easy for it was high.
When I reached the hall, I saw two more dead guards and the door to my great grandsons’ chamber was open. Ylva ran to them but she was knocked to the ground and they ran over her. As the warriors raised their weapons to butcher Sámr and Ulla War Cry, I leapt at them. My teeth ripped and tore into the neck of one of them. I tasted his salty blood in my mouth. I turned to bite into the thigh of a second one. He struck me with his blade. I shook my head and the tearing of my teeth ripped open an artery. Blood gushed over me. Sámr and Ulla War Cry were screaming war cries. Sámr had the silver dagger in his hand and he was fending off the killers. They could not hold out for long. I turned and leapt up at another warrior. I sank my teeth into his throat. I felt blows raining upon me but I held on. I bit and I snapped at all around me. I used my claws to rake flesh but all the time I was growing weaker. My fangs bit and I tasted flesh but my enemies had won. I had failed my great grandsons, I was heading to the Otherworld. As the last warrior fell the light faded. I fell into darkness.
A howl awoke me and, grabbing my seax and Ragnar’s Spirit, I ran from my chamber towards that of Sámr and Ulla War Cry. The dream had been a warning. The door to their chamber was open. I saw a Dane standing there. He was on watch. I ran at him. I was dimly aware of shouts and screams all around me. The Dane saw me and he swung his sword at me. I ducked and I rammed my seax up into his middle. It ripped into his chest. I must have struck his heart for blood flooded out. Pushing him aside I saw the two dead guards; Fótr and Siggi had done their duty but it was not enough. Four dead Danes were testament to their courage. Ylva lay on the ground. Her head bled and I saw Úlfarr with his teeth clamped around the leg of one of the Danes. I saw three others writhing. A third lay with his throat torn out. Even as I watched another Dane took his sword and hacked deeply into Úlfarr’s side. The blade took one of his forelegs with it. The wolf was cut about. His eye caught mine. It gave a haunting last howl. His eye closed and Úlfarr the Guardian died. He had done his duty. It was I who had failed.
Sámr was protecting his brother. He held the silver blade defiantly before him but there were three warriors yet. Two of them saw me and whirled. One licked the edge of his bloody blade, “The sword that was touched by the gods! It will be ours!”
They ran at me. I flicked my seax at the sword which swung towards my head. I merely deflected it and I felt it slice into my shoulder. Ignoring the pain and the blood I knocked the other sword away and then hurled myself, like a spear at the nearest Dane’s head. The top of my skull struck him in the face. He fell as though poleaxed. Even as I turned the second Dane swung his sword at me. It slashed my upper arm. I slashed out with my seax and felt it bite into his ankle. I must have struck a tendon for he fell. He fell towards me and I held up the seax. He fell on to it and my blade was buried so deeply that it was torn from my grasp. I stood and taking Ragnar’s Spirit I raised it and plunged it into the prostrate Dane.
The last warrior raised his sword. I saw that he was a Saxon and he held a seax as well as a sword. He began to swing his sword towards Sámr’s head. I could not reach him in time. Sámr would die! Suddenly my great grandson shouted, “I am Ragnar’s son! I am Clan of the Wolf!” He rammed the tiny silver knife deep into the throat of the Dane. The Dane seemed to choke. Blood gushed. My great grandson ripped the blade sideways. Bagsecg had put a good edge on the blade and the Dane fell with a second mouth below his chin. I
looked around but all were dead. As I dropped to my knees Ragnar appeared in the doorway. He looked at the scene.
“Your sons are safe but Ylva and Úlfarr, I fear they have paid the price for your sons’ lives.”
Ragnar knelt and put his ear to Ylva’s chest, “She lives!”
I shouted, “Elfrida!”
Elfrida was not a volva but she had powers. As I stood I saw Sámr. He had dropped his knife and was cradling the corpse of Úlfarr. He was sobbing as was Ulla War Cry. His eyes looked up at his father and I heard the pain in his voice, “This was a great warrior! He killed three of them and he died to save us!” Then he buried his head in the wolf’s fur and sobbed. I felt tears spring to my eyes. I had watched oathsworn die but this creature had done something no warrior had ever done before. He had deliberately given his life for my family.
Atticus and Elfrida appeared. Ragnar said, “Ylva, she lives, but I know not what is wrong with her. Astrid and Brigid followed. The two of them swept Sámr and Ulla War Cry into their arms. Both boys struggled and screamed to be allowed to stay with Úlfarr. As Atticus began to dress my wound I said, “Peace. Úlfarr is in the Otherworld. Already he is being honoured by Odin. You are right, Sámr, he was a warrior. He was sent by the spirits to save you and he did. His spirit will watch over you. You are of the Clan of the Wolf and live in the Land of the Wolf. You are the wolf!”
I saw his tear-filled eyes. He closed them and, upon opening them nodded. He buried his head into his mother’s arms.
Atticus said, “You are wounded, jarl!”
I waved him away. I was more concerned with my granddaughter. Atticus ignored my hand and continued to examine
Elfrida said, “She has suffered a blow to the head.” She turned my granddaughter on to her side. “I will sit with her.” She reached out and touched my hand, “Thank you, Dragonheart, you have saved my grandsons. I owe you more than I can ever repay and I sorry about Úlfarr. We will honour him and his sacrifice.”
I looked up at Ragnar, “Where are the other guards? Why did they not come when they heard the fighting? Your men would not die quietly.”
He looked angry but I suspect it was anger with himself. He had berated me for standing guard all night. I did not remind him of his words, there was no need. He remembered them. ‘Are the men on the walls so lacking in skill that they will allow killers to enter !’
“They tricked us. Men were seen at the sea gate. When the alarm was raised and we went after them then others slipped over the back wall. Our attention was on the sea and they came from the forest. I am sorry.”
“It is your men who have paid the price and Úlfarr. I will mourn the wolf which I rescued for had he not been here I would have lost a granddaughter and two great grandsons.” I forced my own anger to the back of my throat. Now was not the time for recriminations.
Gruffyd appeared. He took in the scene. “We came as soon as we heard the noise. How did…”
I held up my hand, “We were tricked but, thanks to Úlfarr, the boys were saved.”
Atticus said, as he examined my wound, “This needs stitches, jarl. I am sorry.” His voice was gentle as though he feared a loud voice might hurt me more.
“Then stitch away.”
“The light is not good in here.”
“I stay until the wound is stitched for when I go it is to bury three heroes.”
It was dawn by the time we gathered by the forest road. Ragnar’s men dug the graves for Siggi, Fótr and Úlfarr. It was a grey and mournful morning. Rain sleeted in from the west and yet none of us seemed to notice. All were there. Only Kara and Aiden were missing. Ylva had recovered and, with bandaged head, stood next to Sámr. There was a bond between the two of them. We laid the two warriors in first along with their swords. Then we carefully, reverently, placed the dead wolf between them. I stroked his fur for one last time. He looked at peace but he would never again race across my land or swim in my Water. He would never put his head on my lap to be stroked. He had been with us such a short time and yet I would miss him more than some warriors I had known a lifetime. Sámr raced forward and, after putting the dagger and its sheath on the dead wolf’s body began to sob once more.
Ylva gently picked him up. She said, quietly, “No more tears, cousin. He is content. He was dead until the Dragonheart gave him life. He has repaid that life and now lives here amongst the other spirits. He will watch over you. You are now Sámr the Saxon Slayer, Sámr, the Wolf Warrior. You have achieved more in one night than some warriors do in a life time. Do not grieve, celebrate!”
She led him back from the grave and we all began to pile the soil on to them. When we had finished we piled turf. Elfrida said, “I will have stone cut to make a fitting tomb. This story will be passed on from generation to generation. The sacrifice of these three heroes will not be forgotten. That I swear.”
I was the last to leave. I waved away the others. I wished to be the one who spoke the last words. “Úlfarr I will visit Úlfarrberg again. I will go and visit your mother. She needs to know that her cub did something that no wolf has ever done before. You were with us for a short time but I swear that you will never be forgotten. We called the mountain Úlfarrberg but now it has a special meaning. It is your mountain.”
Perhaps it was my imagination or just the wind whistling in from the west but I swear I heard a wolf howl. It was Úlfarr.
Epilogue
Aðils and Beorn returned to Cyninges-tūn a sennight after we returned from Úlfarrston. The town now seemed even more appropriately named. Whale Island was forgotten as Ragnar and Gruffyd’s people honoured the wolf who had saved the children.
My two scouts had horses and a bag of treasure. They also had a hessian sack. “We found the Saxon, jarl. It was Aethelbald. He had with him two men. We slew them. They had a chest of treasure with them. The treasure is on the horses.”
“As I said, it is for you and Beorn. You have earned it.”
“And the sack?”
Aðils took out the eyeless skull of Aethelbald. “Their corpses are in the river but we thought to bring this back.”
I nodded, “And I know what to do with it. We will pickle it in a jar and send it to King Aethelwulf. He should learn that is the price of failure. I would have him watching over his shoulder.”
They both nodded. their agreement. We sent the jar on our next ship to Dorestad and there Arne Eriksson paid a Frisian to deliver it to Wintan-ceastre. I know not what Aethelwulf thought of the message. But I cared not. We had not finished with him.
I went alone to Úlfarrberg. It was not the best day to either travel or climb for it rained. There was thunder and there was lightning. I did not see Thirl. He must have been on the fells with his sheep. Leaving my horse at his hut I took my staff and ascended. I had the staff with me for I remembered the difficulties I had encountered. The driving rain and the dark skies made it hard to see further than a few paces ahead. I found the flat place and looked up. The grave had gone. The stones I had stacked were no longer there. I went to the place where the she-wolf had been and I saw nothing. There was a pile of scree and tumbled stones. I searched where I had buried the warrior and the wolf. I remembered the bones of the dead warrior and they were no longer there. Everything was as I remembered it save that there was neither she-wolf nor warrior. Instead there was a pile of stones. It was as though neither had ever been there. Had I imagined it? There was no sign that either the wolf or the whelp had ever existed.
I was going to turn and leave when I saw something glistening in the wet. I reached down and picked up the coin. It was a silver coin. I put the coin in my pouch and retraced my steps. I would examine it when I reached the bottom.
Thirl awaited me, “Well Jarl Dragonheart?”
“Where is the grave of the wolf? I could not find it.”
“Last year, when we had those terrible storms the gods raged and fought amongst the peaks. One of them smote Úlfarrberg with his lighting and the side of the mountain tumbled down. When I ha
d the chance to venture forth I saw that the stones had covered this side of the mountain. My hut was saved but I lost sheep.”
I nodded. I took out the coin and looked at it again. I examined it and saw that on one side was a wolf’s head and on the other a warrior’s face and a sword. It was a sign. I saw, on the rim, letters. They were the name of someone. I moved my finger over them to try to make them out. I felt seven letters. I touched them three or four times. A name from the past came to mind. The letters were faded and perhaps it was imagination but I believed it said, ‘Lann Dux’ . It was a coin of the Warlord. The circle was complete.
I was silent for a while. My ancestor, the Wolf Warrior, had been reborn to save the lives of Sámr and Ulla War Cry. When I had climbed the mountain, a wolf’s lifetime ago I had been ready to die. Now I was ready to live. The Warlord had never ceased fighting, even when the odds were stacked against him. He was fighting still, from beyond the grave. I closed my eyes and kissed the coin.
Thirl was staring at me as I opened them, Jarl Dragonheart! Are you ill?”
I shook my head, “All is well, Thirl. I do not understand it all but my heart is at peace. The Dragonheart has a life to live!”
The End
Norse Calendar
Gormánuður October 14th - November 13th
Ýlir November 14th - December 13th
Mörsugur December 14th - January 12th
Þorri - January 13th - February 11th
Gói - February 12th - March 13th
Einmánuður - March 14th - April 13th
Harpa April 14th - May 13th
Skerpla - May 14th - June 12th
Sólmánuður - June 13th - July 12th
Heyannir - July 13th - August 14th
Tvímánuður - August 15th - September 14th